


Unimpressive

by pseudofaux



Category: Samurai Love Ballad Party - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Yuki really didn't mean to upset him with this, absolutely loveless sex, hatefucking, ~perfume~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofaux/pseuds/pseudofaux
Summary: Kara wants a Yuki/Nobuyuki hatefuck? Kara GETS ONE.





	Unimpressive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karalija](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karalija/gifts).



> This story features Nobuyuki and Yuki playing a bit of a game (unknowingly) before fucking each other. Yuki's into him but not stupid about it, Nobuyuki absolutely hates her and always will. This is not romantic or sweet.
> 
> But it doesssssss have  
> [an illustration](http://karalija.tumblr.com/post/169598393872/yuki-kirigakure-mistress-of-poisons-terrific), thanks to   
> [Karalija](https://kara-lija.deviantart.com/) herself. Praise!

It began very casually, but not subtly.  
  
His bedding smelled... different. Like perfume. A high quality perfume, a wonderful fragrance. Something he recognized. Something that was distinctly unwelcome.  
  
Nobuyuki trusted the maids, whose discretion was reliable. He did not think one of them would have dared to have some tryst in his bedding, or the inclination to spend their wages on very fine perfume, or been bribed by some woman to scent his bedding in some effort to snare him (really, some of these samurai women were almost clever, and they were all tenacious, he had to give them that).  
  
But the second time it happened, he knew it was real and a real problem, and he gathered the maids and asked. They had no idea what caused the change, swearing his linens had been washed only with soap and lavender. They seemed distressed in ways he believed. The woman who did the washing had not altered her process, knowing that he liked the smell of his bedding as he had for years. She invited him to have a chamberlain observe the washing procedure.  
  
He told the maids that would not be necessary. He thanked them for their time. He asked the chamberlain to give them pocket money, and sent sweets and lavender to their own rooms by way of apology for doubting them. He felt a little guilty— they were loyal. He needed to know, but should have gone about it another way.  
  
The maids weren’t doing it, and they would have taken linens that smelled perfumed away if they noticed them, and that meant this change was taking place after the fabric was already in his room.  
  
That someone was entering his chambers unnoticed was absolutely not to be borne.

* * *

 

A few days after that second time, he consulted with Jinpachi.  
  
“There seems to be a fragrant rat sneaking into my bedchamber,” he said.  
  
“Milord,” Jinpachi acknowledged. Jinpachi knew to wait for more. They worked well together.  
  
“Do you know of any perfume merchants or rats that have entered my rooms?”  
  
“No, milord. But I have not been guarding your chambers.”  
  
“Of course,” Nobuyuki said pleasantly. “Perhaps I’ll spend more time there the next few days.”  
  
“If I may, milord...”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“What does the perfume smell like?”  
  
Nobuyuki’s face went flat. He wasn’t angry with the question and trusted Jinpachi would understand.  
  
“Presumption,” he answered icily.  
  
Jinpachi bowed. “I will lay some traps for presumptuous rats.”  
  
“I would be very grateful for that," Nobuyuki said, trying to make the target of his ire plain. "Please let me know if I can assist in some way.”  
  
“Of course, milord.” And then Nobuyuki was alone with his books.  
  
The next few nights, his bedding smelled as it should. Lavender and peace. He slept well.

* * *

But then Genjirou came home, which was good, and the same night that perfume was back, which was not. He frowned as he moved the blanket back, the scent wafting up.  
  
Jinpachi made a soft sound behind him. “Milord. Again?”  
  
“Yes,” Nobuyuki said, upset. Still not with Jinpachi. But upset.  
  
“There was... something different, somewhere.”  
  
“Are you being vague in case there is a little rat listening?” Nobuyuki asked.  
  
“Yes,” Jinpachi said simply. “And if a little rat or any other creature _is_ listening, I strongly suggest she stop this now. There are several Iga-born here who would snuff her out if she were caught.”  
  
Silence.

* * *

“I’m not interested,” he said the next night, when the scent greeted him at the door to his bedchamber.  
  
Her heard the slightest giggle, sultry and lilting. But he wasn’t interested in this kind of game, either, so he ignored it. He slept in his library on a bedroll that smelled like it should.

* * *

The next night his library bedding was perfumed, too.  
  
He would not sleep in it, so he went to one of the guest rooms.

* * *

At dinner the following night, Genjirou and his ninja— a knowing fellow, perceptive and sharp— traded quips comfortably. Nobuyuki was pleased for his brother that he had such a friend (Nobuyuki was perceptive and sharp, too, and he knew the love of friends when he saw it). He recognized that he was jealous. But he would never be able to spend the time with Genjirou that Saizo could, and the ninja had saved his brother from many scrapes and worse. Nobuyuki caught Masayuki looking on with a tiny smile. Their father had facilitated this, so Nobuyuki supposed he had earned the right to be proud.  
  
Their conversation somehow moved to siblings.  
  
“Saizo, you know my family, but I’ve never met yours. What are they like?”  
  
The shinobi’s mouth tightened. His eyes narrowed. Nobuyuki felt himself paying extra attention to Saizo. If he was going to hurt Genjirou, he’d have to be dealt with.  
  
“Less daily trouble than you, certainly, dear,” Saizo answered.  
  
Genjirou blushed but would not be deterred.  
  
“Really, what are they like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”  
  
“One of each,” Saizo responded, sounding vexed but mostly bored.  
  
“A sister?! What is she like?”  
  
“Absolutely not marriage material for you, little lord.”  
  
“Th-that’s not what I meant!” Genjirou all but wailed, scarlet. Nobuyuki felt himself smile.  
  
“They’re both difficult,” Saizo confessed eventually. “But in different ways than you, Yukimura.”  
  
Genjirou laughed heartily, appearing not to take the barb of Saizo’s words seriously. Nobuyuki wondered about that.  


* * *

Finally, he caught the rat himself. Jinpachi helped Nobuyuki to ensconce himself in a recess of his room and wait there from midday on. Word circulated that Nobuyuki traveled into the village to give his patronage to some craftsmen. The servants left his rooms alone, as instructed.  
  
At midafternoon a quiet, even sliding noise came from the ceiling, and he knew it was time. At last.

A beautiful woman—too beautiful—lithe and glorious, lush and elegant despite her immodest dress, dropped from the ceiling. He could see the profile of her face, her satisfied grin.

She was clearly of Iga herself, which could explain why Jinpachi’s warning hadn’t stuck.  
  
“You’re Saizo’s sister,” he observed from his spot by the wall without preamble. It was difficult to keep the sneer off his face.

She turned to him, appearing wholly unbothered by his presence, her smile growing more pleased. More sensual. More inviting. More like a spider at the edge of a web.

“Yes, dearest, I am. My name is Yuki.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stayed seated in the shadows of his room.

“Why am I doing what?” Her question was every syllable innocence, but the way her arms came forward to push her breasts together was sin itself. One slim hand rested thoughtfully against her chin.

“The perfume,” Nobuyuki said, unamused.

“You noticed!” Her smile was sincere, eyes nearly shutting (nearly, he noticed, but not quite) as her cheeks came up. Her body was astoundingly beautiful. The material of her robes seemed to be resting on her shoulders and other curves with nothing more than the pressure of her will. The silk would slip off with the lightest of pushes.

… _Was what he was supposed to think_ , he was sure. He was very done with this game already.

“Where did you get my mother’s perfume, and why are you using it?” he demanded.

“Oh? Darling, I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean. I created this fragrance myself only recently and I’m very proud of it.”

Nobuyuki was not amused. Her coquettish amusement made it worse.

He rose and stepped toward her. He had a few inches on this “Yuki”, but she was tall for a woman. So beautiful few men would care. He did not. But he did notice.

For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he moved his hand to grab her, and she, Kirigakure that she was, moved to block. He was prepared for that, and grabbed at the hand she’d used to bat him away. Nobuyuki could not tell if she had let him land his hand on her or not, but did not waste time thinking about it.

He spun her around and pulled her back to his front. He put one arm around her narrow waist, knowing he could lock that part of her better than others, and grabbed her chin with his free hand. Nobuyuki leaned forward.

“You seem to think you’re quite clever,” he observed in his court voice behind her ear, pressing his fingers into her skin.

She giggled. He could hear it and feel it in his hand around her throat. She had a very fine jawline. She was a beautiful woman.

And he hated her.

Her voice, unconcerned, came from in front of him. “Well, Sanada-sama, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t made designs on ending up here.”

The shameless woman _rubbed her ass against him_ , undulating herself with a sigh as she brought her hands to rest against his. He reminded himself that she must be armed.

“I’ve watched you,” she said into the air in front of them. “You look like fun.”

“…fun.” **_Fun_** to play with him this way?

“Mmhmm,” she replied, pushing herself back onto his body.

He hated her. Hated. But her body was perfect, and they both knew it, and knew she knew what she was doing with it.

“My mother’s perfume,” Nobuyuki repeated. “Why?”

She stopped the slow glide of her back along his front.

“Darling,” she said, “The perfume I created is not your mother’s, or based on it. I swear.”

He did not trust her. But he believed her, in this. He rolled his eyes and sighed through his nose.

And took back his hands. She did not step away from him.

“She must have had very fine taste,” Yuki said sweetly as she turned around and tilted her face up to his. He sharpened his gaze on her and held up a hand.

“Don’t,” he said curtly.

“Oh, darling,” she said, lovely pout oozing contrition, “I can tell I’ve hurt you when I didn’t mean to. Tell me how I can make this up to you, then, hmm?”

Her cloying made him want to crush something. But Nobuyuki caught that she was making an offer. And he’d been hoping for something like that.

So he was prepared, immediately, to say, “You can make sure my brother is never hurt.”

Yuki went still, as though she’d be splashed with something unpleasant. One perfect eyebrow raised. “Darling,” she said softly, “Yukimura has a ninja of his own. Even Saizo cannot promise that your brother is never hurt.”

Nobuyuki wanted to press her, both in conversation and his hands around her throat. But he knew she was right.

“Then never, ever hurt him yourself.”

Her pretty mouth became a perfect little _O_ of surprise.

“You mean…?”

“I mean at all,” Nobuyuki said.

She smirked. “But darling, his sensibilities are so very easy to hurt.”

“Nevermind his sensibilities. To make this up to me, you’ll agree to never take a job that targets him.”

Her eyes went down, away from his, and her mouth finally closed. She was clearly thinking.

After a moment, she brought her eyes back up to his. At last the kunoichi seemed properly chastened. “Alright, Lord Sanada,” she said quietly. “I will never take an assignment that targets Yukimura. I hope you understand what a gift this is that I am giving.”

“I only care that you keep your word,” he said flatly.

And then she laughed again. Of course.

And then her nimble fingers were undressing him—they were doing this? really?—untying cords and sashes, separating the sides of his robes. Nobuyuki rolled his eyes.

“I always do,” she purred, kneeling and sliding her own robes off in a movement of sinful grace.

Now that he could see her, Nobuyuki had to marvel at her form. She was symmetrical, her colors was beautiful, and her skin was flawless.

She was tugging his hakama down and off.

He sighed, already exhausted.

His cock seemed to share his dispassion for all of this. Even as Yuki’s thin fingers were gliding up from his knees, going to his hips to squeeze him and pull him forward, he just… didn’t feel it. She was too snakelike.

Her tongue, pink and petal-perfect, met him. And then his body became slightly interested in what she was doing.

He knew female ninja received training, and wondered if this was part of it or something she could simply do, built the way she was.

“Mmmm,” came Yuki’s long moan as she took him into her mouth and laved his shaft. The touch of her tongue was pleasant, wet and plush against him, and her technique was without flaw. But for Nobuyuki there always needed to be some kind of trust in a partner, whether they were rising to challenge him or submitting to his whims. He did not have that trust here, and without it he couldn’t play the game in a way that would arouse him. Not really.

Yuki continued to try, cupping his balls in her slim hand and moaning around his shaft.

He didn’t believe her. His body responded only minutely. Without the commitment of his mind, it wasn’t going to work.

Eventually she drew back from him, flashing him a seductive glance.

“Does the Lord Sanada prefer to see a lady’s pleasure?” she asked sweetly. Not so sweetly he couldn’t detect the edge to it. He laughed.

“I have no preference for you at all, Yuki. I did not ask for this. You may leave.”

He turned, but she was right there in front of him, her striking hair still settling from the movement.

“Ah ah, little lord. Let us seal our promise with a kiss, at least.”

“Not necessary,” he said airily, turning again, bringing his robes closed in front of his body.

Yuki grabbed at his wrist. In her grip he felt the strength of one of Iga’s best.

“What do you want?” he sighed tiredly.

“A kiss would be nice.” Her voice had all the sweetness of a blade fresh from a whetstone.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” he told her flatly. “I don’t like you.”

“Oh, little Lord,” she giggled again, “that’s really no barrier to me.”

She somehow melted _up_ his body, the warm slide of her nakedness against his own raising the hairs on his arms.

He pushed her away from him, and like silk falling to the ground she slid to her hands and knees. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had slapped her ass. Her perfect (of course) ass. Which flushed from his hit like a dream, supple and feminine and beautiful.

“Mmm, I’ve got something better than a kiss for you, then, lucky lord,” she teased over her shoulder. Her hands went to her ass and lightly pulled the cheeks apart. The shameless vixen waggled herself at him.

“You may take either,” Yuki crooned, like the cat who’d gotten the cream.

The sight of his handprint becoming visible through her fingers was stirring his blood. She was repugnant, but she was beautiful. She was clever enough to play with, but she was a monster, and he hated her.

Still, he was getting hard. He aligned himself with her, found her entrance slippery and hot.

“Give it to me,” she hissed. “Be fierce.”

“Don't tell me what to do,” Nobuyuki replied. “You don’t deserve _this_ ,” and he pushed inside her body (which welcomed him, coddled him, coaxed him to stay or push further) and then pulled back and pushed even farther in on the next thrust. Yuki squealed, delight making her voice go high.

“Yes,” she breathed down at the bedding, her hands fisting his sheets. The sheets she’d _ruined_ with that damned perfume. And she had the gall to not even understand _how_ she was ruining them. Her body was quivering and her channel, tight but not restrictive, pulsed around him.

Seeing the sheets below her reminded him. “You are the worst,” he hissed, sliding his hands from her hips to her shoulders and leaning over her back. “It will be a better-hearted woman than you that gains my affection, Kirigakure Yuki.”

She whimpered. So Yuki liked to play this way, did she?

“I don’t care about your affection, Nobuyuki,” she said clearly. “All I want is this.” And she pushed herself back toward him. He felt the head of his cock nudge her womb and groaned before he could stop himself.

She moaned once she heard him, so hiding it from her was out. But oh, if what she wanted to do was play a game where he hated her, they were already playing that, weren’t they?

“This is all you’ll get,” he sneered at her ear. “You want me to be rough with you, kunoichi?” He let his hands follow the curve of her ample breasts to her nipples and tweaked one, hard. She squealed again and shuddered around him.

“You want this?”

He pushed in as far as his hips would allow in their current position.

“Nnnnnyes!” she squeaked.

Something about that response was just what he needed to see this through.

He fucked her harder than he ever fucked anyone else, and he did not love her for being able to receive it and keep going. He was crueler to her body than he took pleasure from—a part of him felt righteous in his want to _hurt_ her as she had hurt him. His mother’s precious perfume and all his happy memories of being close enough to her as a child to enjoy it, coopted and tainted by this conniving whore with none of the kindness or grace of spirit the scent should require.

He bit her shoulder and she shouted but made no move to dislodge him. He did not aim to remove her flesh but a part of him wanted to break her skin. Wanted to break her.

“I hate you,” he hissed again. “I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

He bit the other shoulder and she groaned, a pleasured sound that he hated even more than he hated her. Her hand went between her legs. Nobuyuki could feel her elegant fingers holding her folds open and thought she was probably manipulating herself to orgasm.

He tugged both of her nipples sharply. Her cry of obvious bliss surprised him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he demanded, repeating the action. Her cries went to a higher pitch between her pants and little mewls. Her sounds were natural but he knew—he just _knew_ they were the result of study and cultivation, meant to make her partners come undone.

Seven hells. He felt his eyes rolling in a way that had nothing to do with their coupling, and then again at the thought of using the word “coupling” to describe this action.

“You’re a monster,” Nobuyuki sneered into her ear. “And not nearly as clever as you think you are. Not by half. Your so-called beauty means nothing to me. I know you for a snake.”

She was keening openly below him now, still sounding like she loved all of this and practically sobbing with want. Her cries pushed him closer to the edge, and he pushed further into her to punish her for it. He brought his hands back to her hips to hold her in place as he fucked her to his completion, telling her she was horrible, filthy, clumsy, and hadn’t fooled him at all.

He didn’t know if that last bit was true. But it felt like the first reall pleasure he’d gotten from this to tell her so with every note of disdain he could bleed into his voice.

She put her head down on her arm and screamed as she rippled around his cock, and that did him in. For a brief second he considered staying right where he was—she hadn’t asked him not to, and he wanted to punish her—before regaining his senses. He didn’t want to punish her with that risk. Not… really. Not quite.

So he pulled himself back and pulled her hair with him. The flawless, supple skin of her back moved as her spine bowed. With his free hand, Nobuyuki pulled his orgasm from himself, painting her back with splashes of cum. Into the sadism of their odd play and still very much in the mood to denigrate her, he pushed his finger into her back when he was finished, pushed _hard_ , and wrote a character in the puddle. When he was done he was inspired to write a second.

“What does that say, Yuki?” he demanded.

“Ah-ahh, darlinnng, I can’t telllll,” she whined, pulling her head forward. He kept his grip on her hair, full and beautiful in his other hand. The silk of it spilled between his fingers, strands of nacre glinting in the limited afternoon light of his room. He clenched his hand.

“Pay attention, then. I’m not letting you go until you can read this label.”

He pushed at her skin again, no gentler but slower. Her back trembled slightly.

“…bad?” she asked, trying to hang her head. He did not let up on her hair.

“What else?”

“Bad…smell?”

“That’s right,” he hissed as he tugged her hair before releasing her. He stood and walked across the room, used the basin there to clean himself before righting his clothing.

“Oh, darling,” Yuki purred from his bedding, flat on her stomach and looking quite comfortable. “We can do that again whenever you like.” She sounded sated. When he looked over at her face the twin mahogany circles of her eyes were tiny above her smile.

“I have no desire to do that again,” he told her. Truthfully. Mostly.

She smirked, but got up without being prompted.

“I quite like people who love their families,” she said sweetly. Then she pouted. “I really liked that perfume.”

Nobuyuki said nothing. After a few seconds, she added more quietly, “…but I will destroy it and start something new.”

He considered thanking her but decided to stay silent.

Before she put her own robes back on, Yuki stood with her back to him, displaying his handiwork. There was still the mark of his hand on one side of her ass. Darker marks on each shoulder, distinct on her pale flesh. His bites. On her tiptoes, she craned her neck to try to get a look at the mess on her back.

“Such a healthy lord,” she mused, grinning at him. He did not return her smile.

She pulled a cloth from somewhere and cleaned herself up before redressing.

“I could have ended your life at any point just then,” she cooed. Her tone did not match her frown.

He felt one side of his mouth tug into a smirk at her conflict. He was glad to have upset her.

“Perhaps I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon with a younger, gentler partner,” she mused.

He had no interest in her affairs. He was beyond ready for her to leave.

“Someone like Yukimura,” she said sweetly.

He looked at her face, his own going stony.

“I know, I promised!” Her giggle made him want to shoot something. “I won't harm a single hair on his sweet head. But I’ll just see if he’s around for play...”

And she threw open the doors of his room, boldly walking into the hallway and startling servants and—he could hear the sputtering—his younger brother alike.

Nobuyuki sighed. Called for a maid through the open door.

He ordered the bedding burned.

**Author's Note:**

> I love you so much, beautiful and wonderful friend!
> 
> If YOU, gentle reader, have not yet seen Kara's GORGEOUS artwork, you need to bless yourself in [this](http://karalija.tumblr.com/) [manner](https://kara-lija.deviantart.com/) asap.
> 
> It was super duper thrilling to work on this present with [RubyLeeRay](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLeeRay/profile), one of my absolute favorite people and very favorite person to thumbs down react ironically. Most of the time. Her companion gift for the story above, [Impressive](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13210491), is nothing short of... well, super impressive! I love it. 
> 
> Kara and Ruby are both queens and you should bless/treat yourself by becoming (re)acquainted with their work.


End file.
